


trapped

by jaimelanniser



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 13:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12013947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimelanniser/pseuds/jaimelanniser
Summary: winter storms prevent margaery from leaving winterfell





	trapped

“—looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”

“Trapped?” Robb strolled up to the two ladies talking in hushed tones, a wide smile on his face. “Are you so keen to leave Winterfell?”

“Of course not, my lord,” Alla Tyrell rushed to reply, her pale cheeks already flushed with the cold pinking even more at his sudden appearance. “We are very grateful to you and your family for allowing us to stay through the storm.”

Margaery put a hand on her cousin’s elbow. “Oh, hush. It’s not very gentlemanly of you to fluster my cousin so, Robb.” She arched an eyebrow at him, delicate and calculating and beautiful. “We were talking about how we missed the warmer climate of Highgarden, is all. You’d miss it too if you had grown up amidst flowers and hills instead of weirwoods and ice.”

“Perhaps,” Robb conceded, arms folded behind his back, smile still in place, eyes fixed on Margaery. There was a pause in which nothing was said, and the wind howled, making the ladies’ skirts flutter. “May I escort you someplace warmer?”

Alla took a step away from them and curtsied with a small smile at Margaery. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord, my lady, I will retire to my chambers for the night.” And without further ado, she hurried away from them.

Margaery came closer and linked her arm through his elbow as he led her down the walkway between towers. ”I could think of worse company to be trapped in a storm with.”

“I’m pleased to know I’m not the  _worst_  company, my lady,” Robb replied with a hint of sarcasm. “What an admirable quality that is. I should have it engraved on a handkerchief to tie around my lance in tourneys.” He motioned with his free arm in front of them as if displaying a banner. “Not the worst company.”

And he delighted in Margaery’s resulting laugh, light and airy. “You should be so lucky to have my favour.”

They stopped inside and Robb let her arm drop so he could turn to face her. “Who else would you give it to?” he challenged, raising his eyebrows and carefully sliding his hands to ghost at her waist. “I’ll fight him.”

“You’d fight for me?” she responded, trailing her fingers up his arms to his shoulders and around his neck, sending goosebumps across his skin. “Who would you fight for me? The Hound?”

Robb grinned, pulling her closer until their noses were almost touching each other. “I’d fight The  _Mountain_  for you.”

But she wasn’t satisfied. Margaery rarely was, with the bare minimum. She always wanted more, she wanted  _everything_. “What about Jaime Lannister?”

“I can take Jaime Lannister,” he shot back, tilting his face to brush his lips across her cheek, his warm breath making her shiver a little. “I would take Robert Baratheon and Arthur Dayne, Barristan Selmy and Brienne of Tarth…”

His lips grazed her ear and Margaery’s eyes fluttered closed. “I’d fight Dorne’s best warriors and a hundred Dothraki horselords. I’d battle my way through every living man on earth if it would mean I won your heart.”

Her heart, as it was, was beating rapidly against her ribcage, and she felt dizzy as she let Robb hold her and barely kiss her. “My heart,” she breathed back, turning her face towards his again, eyes still closed. “My hand, my soul, my future is yours.”

“And I am yours,” Robb whispered back before kissing her, properly, his lips warm and soft against hers, stubble scratching her upper lip slightly, but she didn’t care. She kissed him back with urgency, with passion, with every inch of her body that ached for him.

They kissed, and kissed, and whispered to each other and giggled in the dark corners of the castle as the storm raged on outside, covering everything in white, and as the night dragged on, they lost themselves in each other’s bodies and words of love and promises that each intended to keep, as is the way with young lovers, and they spoke of their wedding and of their families and of how she’d look in Stark colours and how he’d love Highgarden and what names they would give to their children, and never once spared another thought to being trapped.


End file.
